


The Cliffs of Delphi: Visiting Home

by GreyLiliy



Series: The Cliffs Of Delphi [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the asylum stable, Pharma finally felt free enough to hold his head up high and visit his mentor Ratchet, much to the older man’s delight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cliffs of Delphi: Visiting Home

"Pharma!" Ratchet cried, engulfing the smaller man in a bone crushing hug. He lifted the shocked man an inch off the ground, before dropping him to his feet. Ratchet stepped back and put his hands on Pharma’s shoulders. "Look at you! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever."

Pharma snorted, but smiled a little and stretched the freckles on his face. “You saw me three months ago.”

"Yes, for two seconds at a medical seminar," Ratchet huffed. He pulled the boy into his house by the arm, and took his coat off as soon as he was over the threshold. Shutting the door, Ratchet slapped Pharma on the back. "That hardly counts as a visit from my son."

"Well," Pharma said, face turning red and looking away. Kid always did get a little flustered around that word. Ratchet sighed, and hung Pharma’s coat on the wall. Time, all it took was time. Pharma waved his hand, and said, "Things have been busy, what can I say?"

"And you’re going to tell me all about it while I’ve got you," Ratchet said, stepping over one of Drift’s meditation pillows. He’d told that boy a thousand times to put his stuff up! Ratchet shook his head. "So why don’t we head into the sitting room to get comfortable?"

"Where’s everyone else?" Pharma asked. He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked around, as if he were expecting to get jumped at any moment by a sibling. Which would have been a legitimate worry four or five years ago. Not so much now a days, Ratchet thought to himself. Pharma glanced down a hallway, and put his hands in his pockets as he relaxed. "It’s rather quiet today."

"Drift went to a fencing tournament, and Rodimus and Perceptor went to cheer him on," Ratchet said. He tipped his head toward the back hall of bedrooms, all empty. "The others moved out a little bit ago, not unlike yourself."

"Right," Pharma cleared his throat and at least had the nerve to look embarrassed. Ratchet chuckled as he opened the sitting room cabinet and pulled down a few glasses. Pharma took a seat on the couch. "I had forgotten."

"An easy thing to do," Ratchet said, handing the boy a drink. He loved that his boys were old enough for this. Ratchet poured a glass for himself, and sucked in a calming breath. To sit and chat over drinks, father and son—nothing was better. "And you’re right, it is a lot quieter around here without the rest of them running about and fighting."

"You’d think it would be more peaceful," Pharma said, crossing his legs and leaning back. "You always complained we were too loud, old man."

"And I was wrong," Ratchet chuckled, kicking Pharma lightly in the shin. "I got used to the noise, and now the quiet’s driving me mad. Even chatty Rodimus is enough to make up for nine missing kids."

Pharma chuckled, and shook his head. He sipped his drink, and Ratchet took the time to get a good look at his most talented child. A little thinner than he was last time Ratchet saw him, and there was an extra bruise or two—but he worked in an asylum. It was more physical than Ratchet’s work. Probably a loose patient, or the like. Ratchet sat next to Pharma and sipped his drink.

That had to be it.

"So, work is keeping you busy?" Ratchet asked, patting Pharma on the knee. "You got a grant recently, correct? Prowl tells me Tarn invested quite a hefty sum."

"Did he?" Pharma sipped his drink slower, and frowned. "What business is it of his?"

"Just filling me in from one friend to another," Ratchet said, swishing the amber liquid around in the glass. "Since a certain boy of mine didn’t think to tell me he was having financial troubles."

Pharma pouted, and spoke into his glass as he sipped, “I didn’t want to worry you.”

"You wouldn’t have, but we can let it be," Ratchet said, drinking slowly. They’d talk about sharing troubles some other time. He didn’t see Pharma enough to risk a fight and having the boy storm out. Ratchet squeezed Pharma’s thigh. "This should be a happy visit, and it is—especially if you got a grant from a man like Tarn. That’s nothing to sniff your nose at."

"You think?" Pharma asked, pulling the glass down. He twisted it in his hands and cleared his throat. "I won’t lie, without his help we probably would have had to close."

"I do, Tarn’s a bit picky with where his money goes," Ratchet said. Prowl had told him quite a bit about Mr. Tarn during their chats and visits with Optimus and his wife, Elita. New money with an eye for charity cases and the arts. Prowl had been wary, but promised to keep an eye on the situation. Ratchet smiled. "Must have seen something worth his time."

"I’m sure he did," Pharma said, tapping the edge of the glass. "Off the record, I think he just likes having access to a private freak show whenever he wants."

"He sees the patients?" Ratchet asked. "That can’t be good for them."

"Tarn behaves with them," Pharma said quickly. "He just watches, nothing more."

"Good, good," Ratchet said. "Their care was always important to you, I’d hate for that to have changed because of a little financial trouble."

"It hasn’t," Pharma said, stiffly. "They always come first."

"Spoken like a true doctor," Ratchet said, holding up his glass. He clinked it against Pharma’ half empty one, and grinned. "Now are you going to tell me all the gritty details, or not? How are Miss Aid and Ambulon holding up? Get yourself a lady friend, yet? I’m not getting any younger and with the house so empty, I could use a grand-kid or two under foot."

"Ratchet!" Pharma yelped. "I-I, that’s! You know I don’t have time for that, and of all—"

"I’m kidding, I’m kidding," Ratchet said quickly, cutting off Pharma with a half hug around the shoulder. "I have to get in a little teasing now and then, don’t I?"

Pharma huffed, and his freckles disappeared in the red flush on his face. Ratchet squeezed his side, and said, “You need to relax.”

"Isn’t that what I came here to do?"

"Yes, it is," Ratchet said, squeezing harder. "And I’m glad you did. I miss you, kiddo."

Pharma sunk into his side a little, and whispered, “I missed you, too.”

Ratchet put his drink down on the table and hugged his boy tight. He missed this every day, and he’d make every second of this time last if it killed him.


End file.
